


Interview From Hell

by fromthecradlebar



Series: The Spooky Kids: adventures of the bisexual satanic drug addicts [1]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: (Olivia & Zsa Zsa are mentioned), (The relationship tags don't mean much), (beginning of band), Ambiguous Relationships, Gen, Homophobia & slurs, Inaccurate Timeline, Multi, random bullsh?t, spooky kids era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-12-18 03:24:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18241403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthecradlebar/pseuds/fromthecradlebar
Summary: Another hot summer day settled itself on Fort Lauderdale, Florida. People hustled about, trying to get stuff done. Well, some of them anyways. Those lazy teens and college kids. Yup, they were the ones not contributing to society. And yet…(Or that one fic that is literally just early band shenanigans. I screwed up the band's timeline so none of this is factual.)





	1. Chapter 1

There lay Brian on his family's couch. He would be watching cartoons and scarfing down a bowl of sugary cereal, but at the moment he was to enamoured with the clippings and articles he held in his hands.

There he was, in all his macabre glory. Trent. Honestly, Brian didn't yet acknowledge his obscene obsession with the rocker, but he could no longer deny it. It had gotten to the point where Scott would laugh when Brian walked out the door. In Brian's defence, Scott should never laugh when it came to fashion. After all, he looked like a dorky sophomore trying to impersonate their deceased golf-playing grandfather. Yeah. Bad.

Scott would just retaliate by rubbing the fact that he had a girlfriend in Brian's long nose. Yup. That's Scott.

Just as Brian started thinking about what Trent's face would feel like, he heard a knock on the door. “Crap.” is all Brian could think. He was surrounded by cutouts of Nine Inch Nails and Trent's impossibly pale face. If it was his parents, they wouldn't think twice. If it was his few friends, they would probably laugh like Scott.

Only one way to find out.

Brian stumbled from the couch, which now had a sinkhole the shape of Brian's body pressed into it. He should probably move once in a while. Carefully maneuvering through the organized chaos of his cutouts, he made it to the door just as “unknown person” started ringing the bell.

Balancing on his toes Brian grabbed the handle with his outstretched arm. He probably should have stepped closer to the door before pulling the handle down though, because the door was jolted forward suddenly by unknown person. Brian's balance was thrown down the pit to hell and he came crashing down on the threshold, right beside unknown person’s feet.

“BRIAN!!!” a loud growl came from above Brian's immobile body.

Brian gathered his remaining strength and looked upwards at unknown person. Oh.

“Hey Pogo.” Brian mumbled indifferently.

“Oh Bri, you gotta forgive me for not coming over last night. You know my roommates, they try to come and make a party out of your misery.” Pogo replied so quick, it was basically verbal diarrhea.

All Brian could do was laugh at the last part. Mainly since that was all he understood. He wasn't surprised that Pogo hadn't come though. Pogo, being five years his senior, was already off living with some of his friends. Ones that didn't understand the concept of NOT partying.

“Don't worry about it. Just- why- what are you doing here?” Brian sputtered as Pogo bounced in the doorway.

“Listen, Bri you gotta listen! Like seriously though. I'm being serious.” Pogo was almost too hyper to handle at this point.

“I'm listening! Don't you think you're being a bit redundant? Or is this part of your uncultured suspense?” Brian rolled his eyes.

“So anyways,” Pogo continued, ignoring Brian's sarcasm. “You know how you work for that magazine thingy-ma-bob?”

“Well I don't have amnesia...”

“Ya, so, I was talking to the lady there, you know, she sets up all the interviews? I don't know how it works… but ya?” Pogo nodded his head vigorously.

“Ya… you didn't… you know…?” Brian looked at Pogo suspiciously.

Pogo made the face of someone walking out of a public washroom. At least the face of an average person walking out of a public washroom.

“Jesus. Bri. You're not following me.”

“I am too!” Brain shouted back, exasperated. “I was just wondering…”

“Wonder later. This lady told me she booked a big interview! Like, a BIG one Bri!” Pogo’s face lit up with excitement again.

“What kind of big!? Who's doing it?” Brian's interest had finally peaked.

“Oh you'll see,” said Pogo smugly. “The only thing I can tell you is that you're doing the interview.”

Brian was speechless. Who could the interview be with? What were some of the good local bands that this local magazine could have actually booked?

Pogo just smiled defiantly and bounced around some more. Pogo. Not exactly enthusiastic, but never ran out of energy.

Brian struggled to get back up, but managed to move himself into a sitting position by Pogo’s feet. Pogo just bounced around on the doorstep some more.

“So… Are you gonna let me in or not Bri?” Pogo's smile was devious.

“Oh fine,” Brian sighed, “It's not like you're gonna leave me alone.”

“Thanks Bri, you're the best!!” Pogo shouted as he blew Brian a kiss and hightailed it to the fridge.

Brian just rolled his eyes again. Who could the interview be with…?

☆☆☆

Brian sat on the old, overly squishy interview chair. He looked down at the papers in his hands. They were shaking. And so were his knees. “Man…” Brian thought to himself, “For being so excited, you sure are nervous.” That's all Brian had been telling himself for the past hour. Or maybe that was his subconscious Pogo, who lingered in his head waiting to create unnerving paranoia.

Brian tried to shrug off his anxiety, but when he heard the lady (you know, the one that sets up the interviews) call out his name, he started to panic. He adjusted his leather jacket and patterned pants in a fidget induced way. He tried to stop the shaking but it wasn't working.

The door opened just as Brian was running his hands through his long sandy blonde hair. In walked the lady, along with… him.

“Hey.” He said, flashing Brian a small smile.

At this, Brian could have sworn he was suffering from cardiac arrest. Or he forgot how to breathe. Something like that.

He seated himself across from Brian meticulously and ran his hand through his dark shoulder length hair. Brian took a deep breath. This was it.

“So, I guess I should ask you about your journey in Nine Inch Nails Mr. Reznor? Or is that too basic?” The words rolled off Brian's tongue easier than he thought they would. Only a hint of his nervousness was there.

“I like the sharp start,” Trent’s voice showed his intrigue with the interviewer's wit. “Please, call me Trent.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo is indecisive, Brian is bitter, and Scott is exasperated. It's more fun than it sounds.

I think I'll get…. Um,” Pogo repeated for the fifth time.

“Do you want me to come back to you?” the server asked blandly for the third time.

Finally, Pogo accepted the offer with a sharp nod and the bored, acne ridden teen slouched off behind the counter.

“Remind me again Pogo, why you can't choose between the three options this diner has?” Brian complained.

“Chill Brian, it's not like we're in a hurry,” Scott groaned, “We have all night for you to tell us about you're AMAZING interview.”

This remark earned Scott a pouty glare from Brian, who in turn made Pogo burst out laughing.

“Does somebody need a nap?” Pogo teased, still laughing and pounding his fist on the ugly diner table.

Scott just rolled his eyes in defeat.

“Honestly, I can't have a nice meal with you two,” Scott sighed, exasperated. “I feel like I'm babysitting without getting paid.”

Immediately after this statement, Scott knew he had screwed up. 

“Oh no. Please don't-” he started, but it was to late for that. Wicked grins had already spread across Brian and Pogo's faces.

Slowly, Pogo turned to Brian and they nodded in an evil agreement. Brian whipped his head back towards Scott.

“Oh, are we being naughty?” Brian's voice was mocking, “Please don't tell our daddy.” 

Pogo got down on his knees and Brian followed, both wringing their hands for effect. Pogo started to beg too.

“Ya please Scotty! Pwetty Pwease don't tell daddy Fred!” Pogo exclaimed, the two almost killing themselves laughing.

Frederick Streithorst, better known as (daddy) Fred, was another misfit in Brian's small social circle. The recurring joke that he was the “dad” and Scott was a babysitter, or the “mom”, was not a new one. However, the people in the diner were not accustomed and gave the three dirty glares.

In no time at all, the two were wreaking havoc upon the small diner. Calling the few remaining patrons rude names, and acting out their favourite “scenes” in front of the staff.

Pogo never ordered. The trio found themselves in the dark, humid parking lot of the diner before Brian could say “daddy” again.

“What a drag,” Brian sighed with boredom, “We were just getting started too.”

“If you two keep that skit up, we won't have anywhere to eat in Florida!” Scott hissed.

“Hey,” whined Pogo. “It's not my fault everyone in there is a homophobe.”

“That’s not what was going on, Pogo!” Scott grated his teeth as he spoke, “I just don't think those people appreciate an oral sex act while they eat. Even if it was Adam and Eve.”

Pogo just continued to bounce around the parking lot, paying no heed to Scott's words.

“Well I should get home.” Scott announced once he knew he would never reach Pogo’s distant mind.

Disappointment riddled Brian's face. Seeing this, Scott replied promptly.

“Oh come on Brian. You can tell me about it later. I would love to hear your story.” 

Brian smiled triumphantly, until Scott asked him to take care of Pogo that night.

“I don't want to find Pogo in the dumpster, half-naked and talking about snake-sharks tomorrow, okay?” Scott repeated firmly.

“You got it, mother.” Brian replied sarcastically.

Scott just smiled and rolled his eyes again. 

“Love ya Brian!” He called back to the two, who were now riding a miraculous shopping cart out of the parking lot.

“love ya too butt-face!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pogo invites everyone to a bar, Scott Is abducted by Pogo and his roommates, and Brian tries to enjoy his creative writing class after his professor makes a slight error. 
> 
> Oh ya, and a 'kid' takes interest in Brian...

Later on in the week, when Brian started to anticipate the wild freedom that the weekend brought to him, he decided to give up on his magazine article and gaze out the window of his bedroom. Unfortunately, the serenity of that Thursday afternoon was destroyed when Brian noticed a set of eyes in the hedge below his window.

“Jesus!!!” He shrieked, aghast at the thought of being watched without notice.

“Geez, someone's on edge.” A snarky voice replied.

“Pogo…” Brian growled. “How many times have I told you NOT to do that?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Pogo's head emerged from beneath the hedge. “It's not like I'm keeping count.”

Brian just stared at Pogo furiously.

“Listen Bri, I came here to ask something important.” Pogo stated excitedly, pulling himself out of the bush and brushing leaves out of his shoulder length hair.

“What is so important that it requires stalking me?” Brian scoffed, still glaring at Pogo.

“It's actually called peeping not stalking.” Pogo replied matter-of-factly.

Brian just stared at Pogo in disbelief.

“Which is what I've been doing lately,” Pogo said proudly, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding. “You see, I picked up on a sick band that I think would be great for you to interview. They're local, and playing at that little bar down a few blocks on Saturday.”

“I mean-” Brian tried, but was cut of by an insistent Pogo. 

“Come on Bri, it's gonna be fun. I already invited Scotty and daddy Fred.”

“I-you-ergh!!” Brian stuttered, unable to come up with a good excuse to get himself out of another boring interview. Saying his aunt died wouldn't work this time. 

Pogo looked at Brian expectantly with his lidded eyes.

“Well you never leave me alone apparently, so sure, I guess.” Brian sighed in defeat.

“Haha, you won't regret it Bri,” Pogo called as he backed off down the front lawn of Brian's house. He gave Brian a big thumbs up while doing so, and almost fell over when he crashed into the trash can behind him. 

“No wonder Scott's always stressed out.” Brian muttered to himself as he waved at Pogo down the street. 

When Pogo was out of sight and almost out of mind, Brian decided to continue with his magazine article, and managed to finish with good time. After that, he opted to sit on the floor of his room and tear pictures of Trent's face out of magazines he had collected. This was pretty much his daily routine.

Before he decided to call it a night he heard the landline ringing and the sound of his mother's footsteps going to pick it up. Moments later her voice called from the other room.

“Brian! Come take the phone, it's your friend… Scott?” 

“Coming!” Brian yelled through the house as he started running around his cutouts to get the phone. 

“What could Scott possibly need at this time in the day!?” Brian thought, exasperated.

When he picked it up, Scott's voice was loud on the other line.

“Woah, woah. Scott!” Brian almost shouted into the phone. “Slow down. I can't understand anything you're saying. Where are you?” 

“Pogo and his unstable roommates dragged me to this house party and I need to GET OUT.” Scott's voice was shaking even through the bad connection.

At first Brian was just laughing to himself at their impromptu parties, but as soon he heard Scott's tone he knew something was up.

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Brian asked, brows furrowed.

“Yes. Please, yes. Just get me out of here.”

Brian hung up the phone after he had gotten the address, and raced to the door, throwing on his green floral jacket.

“Brian! Where are you going now!?” his mother shouted through the living room.

“I need to pick up Scott okay? He needs some help!” Brian called as he rushed out the door.

“Brian, hold on-” His mother started, but it was too late. Brian had already got into his family's Honda and was rushing down the quiet street.

☆☆☆

It was the day after Brian had picked up Scott, and he wasn't sure how he felt about the night before. He had gone to help of course, just like he had promised, but now there was something bothering him.

Brian couldn't get that wild scene out of his head. It kept replaying itself over and over in his mind. That person…. the one with the colourful dreadlocks. What was their deal? It didn't really matter at this point, but Brian was still slightly shaken. The police had even dragged them out of the house.

Just then, Brian looked at his bedroom clock and started to panic. He was going to be late for creative writing.

He ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror quickly. A long, pale face stared back at him. His sandy, shoulder-length hair was not so shoulder-length anymore, and he hadn't showered in over a week. 

Good enough.

Throwing on some clothes and grabbing some Cap'n Crunch, he rushed out of the house, slamming the front door behind him.

Entering through the doors of Broward College-Weston Centre, Brian found himself surrounded by students passing by to get to their classes. He still had to figure out where his class was, so he rushed through the halls to make it on time.

Finally, Brian was just about to walk up to his class when he was cut off by a kid in a black t-shirt and shorts. They entered the class without giving Brian a second glance. After a few minutes of trying to get the kid's attention to patronize them about etiquette, Brian gave up and took his seat.

“I'll just leave it for now I guess.”  
Brian thought bitterly as he sat down. “But I'll give them a piece of my mind if they ever try to do that again.”

Unable to let go of the incident completely however, Brian stared at the back of the kid's head for the better part of his class. By the time he realized what he was doing, it was too late. A voice called from the front of the room.

“Hey Blondie!”

Brian started and looked up at the professor in the front of the class.

“Ya, I'm talking about you, girl!”

This caught Brian even more off guard and he looked around to see who the professor could be talking to. Unfortunately there was nobody behind him for the professor to be pointing at. He looked back at the professor, whose index finger was now directed straight at him.

“Ya you! Stop playing dumb. While you're at it, stop fantasizing about Mr. Dreamy in front of you, and pay attention to my lesson.”

Brian gaped at the teacher, horrified at what had just been said. Some of the kid's turned to Brian and laughed. The ones closest to Brian realized he was, in fact, not female and snickered. Instead of answering, Brian just sunk down in his chair. His face felt uncomfortably warm.

The lesson commenced. The only difference was that Brian had attracted the unwanted attention of the entire class, including the kid in the black t-shirt. Who was now turned towards Brian… and staring at him in confusion…

Brian was beginning to panic and shake with anger at the same time. He didn't know what to do except sit and try to focus on the lesson. However, he couldn't seem to shake the gaze of this kid...

After what felt like hours, the bell rang and Brian hightailed it to the door. Unfortunately, the professor stopped Brian metres away from his only hope of escape. 

“Hey miss, I'd like to have a word.” He said in a more calm voice.

Before Brian could even say anything, the professor continued, not bothering to even look at Brian.

“I'm sorry for being so harsh on you miss, but I need you to understand that this class is no joke.” He continued to stack papers on his desk. “I hope from now on you come to class more focused-” he stopped suddenly as he looked up at Brian.

The professor's face immediately reddened. 

“-sir.” He finished his sentence awkwardly. “I am so sorry.” 

“It's- It's okay.” is all Brian could sputter, even though he was embarrassed and furious.

“Listen son, I honestly did not mean anything. I know you might be a bit of an outsider, but I just want you to know that I'm here to talk to of you need anyone.” He finished gravely.

Brian was very, very confused.

“I'm sorry, I don't understand what you-”

“Oh I just want you to know I'm very open,” the professor cut in. “I have lots of queer friends and-”

This time Brian cut the professor off.

“I'm-I'm fine thanks.” Brian stuttered as he walked towards the door. He felt the anger rising up inside of him.

Brian got out of the class as fast as he could, the professor giving him a look of pity as he left.

“Jesus Christ!” yelled Brian in frustration as he stomped through the hall, kicking the door open. “First class and everything has gone to hell! The professor thinks I'm gay or something now just for staring at some annoying-”

He was about to kick the other door open when a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick flashback to the night Brian recieved a call from Scott to come pick him up from the party Pogo dragged him to. Brian meets a strange kid with colourful dreadlocks and a floral shirt that won't leave him alone...

Brian sped down the street in the direction of the address Scott had given him. He didn't know the neighborhood that well, but had heard enough to keep him from going there. In his mind, there wasn't anything ‘sketchy’ about it, it just had large crowds of people gathering every night for parties. People that weren't particularly nice to Brian. So, he hadn't bothered to go there until this very now.

Brian pulled up to an older looking two story house. It was quite typical of the neighborhood; it had the same structure of most of the houses opposite it. The only difference was that it was brightly lit and alive with very, VERY loud music. Stuff that Brian would very, VERY much like to shut off. 

Brian was about to get out of his family's Honda when he stopped himself suddenly. He looked down at his hand, which was shaking as it reached for the handle of the car door. His heart pounded his eardrums to oblivion and his blonde hair swept into his eyes. 

“What am I doing?” Brian thought to himself. “Why am I here again?” 

Even though the answer to the question was obvious, he started to psych himself out and ponder whether or not this was a good idea. He hadn't been to parties like this before. He didn't know anyone there except Scott and Pogo, but God only knew where they were. Only now did he think about how he would have to search through an entire house and scour crowds of twenty-somethings.

Scott would owe him big-time for this.

Brian burst through the threshold of the house. Loud music invaded his ears, along with the sounds that come only with ‘youthful’ parties. Nobody really noticed Brian come in; they were too caught up in their ‘he-said she-said’ and their ‘Oh-my-god-Sarah-is-such-a-bitch’ or whatever.

Brian lulled as quickly as he could through the crowds of drunk teens and young adults. By the time he made his rounds in the kitchen, he was starting to lose hope. He hadn't caught any sign of Scott or Pogo. In fact, Brian had failed to see anybody he recognized. 

Oh. Nevermind.

Through the group of people playing strip-poker by the kitchen counter, Brian spotted a familiar face. 

“Fred!?” Brian accidentally called aloud.

Unfortunately, and miraculously, Fred caught this and began to make his way over to Brian. He would have been just as surprised to see Brian as Brian was to see him, but he was Fred. Fred didn't get surprised.

“Brian.” Fred said in his astoundingly deep voice. “Who called you?” 

At first Brian was taken aback. Did Fred just read his mind, or was he going crazy? Probably both. After a moment of thought however, Brian recalled Fred's philosophical nature and ridiculously formal speech. In Brian's defence, not much ever came from Fred, since he was usually silent. 

“I'm just here to pick up Scott. You haven't seen him have you?” 

Fred looked around. Fred wasn't as tall as Brian, (well Brian was pretty tall), but he wasn't even quite as tall as Pogo. He had to stand on tip-toe and he craned his neck in order to see through the crowds. Despite his height however, Fred managed to have an uncompromisable presence, moving even the strongest hearts. This earned him the nickname ‘daddy’. At least in the cringe worthy world of Pogo and Brian. Scott didn't seem to agree.

“I saw him a quarter past nine.” Fred answered flatly, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes.

It was now five past ten.

“Crap. Where was he?” Brian asked anxiously.

“I saw him in the living room. I presume he was in the process of beginning a fight with another member of our society.” 

Oh Lord.

“Is he still here?” 

“I couldn't say Brian.” Fred's voice was devoid of much emotion, although a slight crease had begun to form between his dark eyebrows.

“Well thanks anyways Fred.” Brian called as he pushed his way out of the kitchen. He didn't really think too much about it in the moment, but Brian always wondered what Fred was doing at that party afterwards.

Just as Brian was about to turn back to the Honda in defeat, he heard Scott's name sounding from the living room. Brian forgot completely about how he hadn't planned on talking to anyone and burst into the small group's conversation.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Brian started nervously, looking at the group of boys now staring at him with half empty beer bottles in hand. "But I overheard you mention a Scott… that wouldn't be the same one who got in a fight with some kid right?"

At first the boys looked at each other in slow, impaired confusion, but finally one spoke up. 

"Yeah dude, he was dressed like he was about to play golf right?"

Brian almost laughed. If only Scott were here to hear this. 

"Yeah that's the guy." Brian said in almost complete relief. "You haven't happened to have seen him lately have you? "

The boys looked at each other with furrowed brows before another spoke up. 

"Yeah man, your friend was about to fight that fairy dude but he called it off. After that he kinda just sat around nervously, went to use the landline and whatever before I saw fairy dude confront him again over there." The boy pointed lazily to a small couch in the corner. "Yeah they went off upstairs I think? Haven't seen 'em since."

"Bro, if you ask me," another boy chimed in, smirking at Brian. "They went off to… ya know." The boy finished his sentence with a crude gesture that made Brian flush slightly.

"Okay thanks…" Brian trailed off, feeling uncomfortable with that interaction. Just when Brian thought he had brushed it off, the name 'Fairy dude' flashed into his memory.

"What in the hell kind of a nickname is that!?" Brian thought, exasperated. "Why do these douchebags sit around using slurs anyways? Don't they have anything better to do?" He sighed.

Brian was thinking of giving up when he heard a soft sound coming from the bathroom across the hall. Brian had made his way upstairs not too long ago, but hadn't bothered to look further into the bathroom, mainly because it was locked. What scene was inside, Brian did not want to know. 

However, the sound did not sound like anything that could be considered erotic, forcing Brian to turn back and try at the doorknob again.

“Hello?” Brian shouted into the door as he yanked at the handle in vain. 

Another soft sound came from inside, and now that Brian was closer he was almost certain it was a whisper. There was a moment of silence before a frustrated voice came grumbling towards the door.

“What the hell do you need?" It called angrily as they unlocked the door for Brian. 

Brian's heart was beating one hundred miles a minute. He knew it wasn't Scott's voice, and didn't know what to say to them if Scott turned out not to be in the bathroom. Especially since he could start to picture what he had just interrupted.

The door swung open aggressively, exposing a boy who was slightly shorter than Brian, with long colourful dreadlocks and a floral shirt that had no sleeves. Brian stood in shock and couldn't help but move his eyes down to look at the boy's very short jean shorts and striped leggings. Brian was speechless.

"Listen Blondie, if you don't need to take a piss, take your leave." The dreadlock boy said with little more than a smirk.

"Listen," Brian said shakily, since he knew he couldn't turn back now. "I'm just looking for a friend, Scott, and there is a bunch of people telling me he was seen with…" Brian's voice trailed off.

"Crap." Brian thought. "I almost said fairy boy directly to this dude's face."

"With who…?" The dude's face hardened as if he knew exactly what Brian was thinking.

"Nobody. You know what nevermind." Brian laughed nervously. "This is just a misunderstanding…"

Just as dreadlock dude was about to respond, a voice sounded from inside the bathroom.

"Hey… ish that's Brian? Yo! Brian man was up!?" The voice slurred uncontrollably, but even then Brian recognized Scott.

Without thinking, Brian pushed past dreadlock kid and found Scott hunched over the toilet. He could tell Scott had been sick at least three times. 

"Hey ser Brian!" Scott said feebly. 

Brian turned to dreadlock kid in disbelief. "What the hell did you do to him!?" Brian shouted as he kneeled beside Scott, trying to help him up.

"After he decided not to fight me we had a couple of shots. I didn't know he couldn't handle alcohol." Dreadlock kid shrugged laughing. 

Brian didn't know what to say. Instead he just turned back to Scott. "Come on Scott, I'm bringing you home."

Brian swung Scott's arm over his shoulder and pushed past dreadlock kid into the hall. For some reason dreadlock kid followed.

"Nice of you to be such a good chaperone." He teased Brian as he dragged Scott down the stairs. "If I were you, though, I would keep a closer watch on this wild one."

Brian's frustration boiled over and he snapped back towards dreadlock kid. "Why!?"

"Why?" The kid echoed, laughing. "Cause this one here claims to have a girlfriend, even though he tried to make out after being sick three times. That's wild if I've ever seen it."

Brian just stared at dreadlock kid in shock. "He tried to make out with YOU!?" 

The kid just smirked at Brian.

"That's it." Brian thought. "I'm done with this crap."

"Listen, I'm just trying to get my sick friend out of this stupid house party, would you mind giving me a hand if you're going to patronize me!" Brian shouted as he started to cave under Scott's weight.

"Geez, chill Blondie." The kid laughed as he supported Scott from the other side.

Together they managed to drag Scott down the stairs and almost through the living room before disaster struck.

Brian could see the boys on the couch laughing and pointing towards them as they passed through. He knew exactly what they were thinking had happened between them, and he knew there was no way to convince them otherwise so he pushed past the crowds toward the door. Unfortunately, dreadlock kid had lagged behind and looked in their direction. This was all the boys needed.

"Hey f*ggot!" One of the boys from the couch called aggressively. 

It was hard for Brian to remember exactly what happened after that, but he did recall dreadlock kid completely dropping Scott into Brian's arms and lunging three metres over into the couch where the boys sat. Brian could have sworn he teleported.

All Brian could do then was sit on the threshold of the house and watch in horror as a crowd almost instantly formed around the two. Dreadlock kid sat atop the kid, face expressionless as he bashed a lamp over the boy's head repeatedly. The other boys just sat on the couch in shock. Brian knew there would be trouble if they didn't get out of there immediately.

Not even five minutes later, as Brian was buckling Scott into his family's Honda, two police cars pulled up into the driveway, sirens blaring. Before the cops could get out and question Brian, he jumped into the driver's seat and hit the gas. As he pulled away from the house he could see dreadlock kid being dragged across the lawn by the police.

Brian sighed as he sped onto the freeway.


End file.
